


Outside Perspective

by keire_ke



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-14
Updated: 2011-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-19 09:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keire_ke/pseuds/keire_ke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tempestuous affair of Caspian and Edmund, seen through the eyes of (respectively) Reepicheep, who was there to see it begin, Eustace, who witnessed its consummation and Lucy, to whom fell the dubious honour of allowing for its conclusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. intermediary

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Взгляд со стороны](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3166007) by [casmund](https://archiveofourown.org/users/casmund/pseuds/casmund)



> The first two were written for the party post over at Edmund_Caspian LJ community. The third naturally followed. Unbetaed.

[chronicles of narnia -- intermediary]

“Your Majesty, with your leave, his Majesty King Edmund has sent me to tell you,” Reepicheep says, “that your conduct is ridiculous, and he strongly urges you to reconsider your stance and behave as behoves your royal person.”

“Well, you can tell his Majesty King Edmund that if he has something to tell me, he knows where to find me, and tell me in person, or otherwise tell him to keep his mouth shut, or I will have him keelhauled.”

*****

“Your Majesty, if I may, his Majesty King Caspian has requested that I rely to you that he has no intention of heeding your sensible advice as he might be inclined to drastic reactions. Furthermore, he would rather you dispense your sound advice personally.”

“Tell him I have no intention of talking to him until he gets his act together, grows up and stops acting like a spoiled brat! By the Lion, are we schoolboys, or are we kings?”

*****

“His Majesty King Edmund has further doubts as to your conduct and advises you to consider your age and obligations, sire.”

“I am considering my age. I am doing exactly what my age and my honour requires me to do. As to my obligations I need not be reminded of them by someone who relinquished his after a mere fifteen years.”

*****

“His Majesty King Caspian finds that his conduct is becoming of both his age and his position,” Reepicheep says, though in truth he is siding with King Edmund on the issue, “and furthermore he is doing no more than his honour requires.” He isn’t quite sure what it is supposed to mean, but evidently King Edmund has an idea, as he looks away.

“Tell Caspian he is an idiot, then.”

*****

“His Majesty King Edmund,” Reepicheep starts and wonders how to phrase it. “If I may quote directly?” King Caspian makes no move. He isn’t even looking at him, but stares out the window listlessly. Reepicheep takes the silence for consent. “His Majesty said, ‘Tell Caspian he is an idiot’.”

That turns the King’s head, kindles fire in his gaze, which is a welcome change after the emptiness. He raises from his perch and throws a punch at the woodwork, indubitably damaging his hand in the process. There is a faint smear of blood on the panels, one that Reepicheep smells rather than sees.

He wonders what is it that has come between the two monarchs, and how serious it was. Surely, it was nothing that young men were prone to arguing about, as the argument was fiery on the surface alone, while its core was submerged in sorrow.

“Tell Edmund,” King Caspian says, “that I will not withdraw my words. Tell him…” he trails off and sits back down. “I don’t know. Tell him whatever you like.”

*****

“You Majesty, if I may be so bold as to speak freely?”

“Please, Reep.”

“I think you are both fools,” Reepicheep says, and truly it is bold, as it would be well within the king’s right to throw him overboard for the presumption. “I am just a mouse, a humble knight at that, and I have no knowledge of what had transpired between you, but I see that whatever did must be wrong, for you are both suffering for it, and when it is wrong, how can you pursue such an argument?”

Edmund gives him a long look and smiles sadly. “Wrong? Reepicheep, the worst arguments, at least the most painful ones, are those in which both sides are in the right.”

“Then, you think His Majesty is justified in his actions?”

“No, certainly not. He is right, though, and I’m thankful for it, but Lady Justice is, I’m afraid, on my side. Tell Caspian that, if you would be so kind.”

The king grasps the rope ladder and climbs to the crow’s nest, leaving Reepicheep quite confused.

*****

“Your Majesty, his Majesty King Edmund has requested me to say he agrees with your position, and he is grateful for it,” Reepicheep says, quite puzzled, especially when King Caspian’s head swivels and his dark eyes bore into his. “But he has also said he considers the Lady Justice to be on his side.”

King Caspian laughs. “He would say that, wouldn’t he.”

“Sire, I do not understand, how can you be right, and have justice against you?”

“I wish I could tell you. It’s a mystery, Reep.”

Reepicheep still doesn’t understand, but he supposes this is something for the humans to concern themselves with, not him. “His Majesty is in the crow’s nest,” he says and leaves the king to his thoughts. He is not surprised when, a few minutes later, the king emerges from his cabin and steps to the ladder to the crow’s nest.

Once again, he finds himself thanking the Lion that he is but a mouse, and therefore must never choose between what is just and what is right.


	2. doubt that the stars doth move

[chronicles of narnia -- doubt that the stars doth move]

"You- you _beasts_!" Eustace cries and tumbles out of the royal cabin. The accursed ship rocks under his feet, denying him the speed and effect he wished to achieve. It says plenty about his state of mind that he doesn't care, for once.

He stumbles into the so-called cabin he is sharing with those, those _savages_ and slams the door shut. He wishes there was a lock to keep them out, permanently, but of course privacy, like consulate, is yet another concept the Narnians don't believe in.

He hears hurried footsteps on the other side of the door, and then a hushed conversation, one that's rife with yelling done under one's breath. Eustace can't make out the subject of it, but he grins to himself. Good, let them fight, like the miscreants they are.

Edmund -- it must be Edmund, it certainly sounds snooty enough -- says something, a little more calmly then, as though he ever has anything worthy to say, and Caspian falls silent. Eustace hears someone stumble and then the door is shoved open and Caspian positively flies to Eustace and lifts him by the collar.

"Now listen here, you little maggot," he says. He is furious; Eustace, despite his firm belief in pacifism and non-violence, is terrified. He would struggle, but the beast has him by the throat and doesn't allow for movement. He was right when he called Caspian a savage, he doesn't even look human! His nostrils flare, his eyes are narrowed and his voice is low and threatening. "You have ceased to amuse me some time ago, but this is the last straw."

Edmund rushes into the room then, and he at least has the grace to look apologetic, though not nearly enough, as far as Eustace is concerned.

"Lion's mane, Caspian, let him go!"

"To what end? If your world is as bad as you say, then it would only be sensible to drown him now, so he cannot speak later."

Eustace draws a breath and only Edmund's hand upon his mouth stops the scream. "Hush. No one is going to drown you, so help me," Edmund says, but he is staring at Caspian. "I mean it. He is your guest and under my protection. You will have to go through me before you harm him."

Caspian glares, but his hold on Eustace's collar loosens. "As you wish," he says and finally lets go. Eustace would be glad to use the opportunity to run, but Edmund is holding him in place and the brute is much stronger than he.

"Leave us."

Caspian nearly starts spitting fire at that, but in the end he relents. He closes the door behind him and Edmund takes a step back, then, allowing Eustace to crawl into his bunk and wrap the blanket around his head.

"He misunderstood," Edmund says. Eustace hears him sit on the far end of the bunk and he curls in on himself to stay as far away as he can. "He thinks you intend to have me arrested and sentenced to prison, when we get back."

Eustace snorts into the pillow, but contemplates. Of course, he should do as much, it's a crime, after all, to engage in such acts with one of the same sex. It would have been his duty to report it to the police.

"You are, of course, aware that reporting me to the British police would only have you laughed at, as your testimony would make you sound like a raving lunatic, what with the magical journey through a painting and all."

Eustace says nothing and Edmund sighs. "Really, I know it is too much to ask, but can't you be a decent human being for once in your life?" he sounds painfully young and, if Eustace didn't know him for the ignorant fiend he was, on the verge of tears. "It's hard enough as it is, without you being a bother about it."

"It's a crime!" Eustace says, sitting up. "He was- And you!" he really doesn't need, doesn't want, to picture the scene again, but it flows into his mind all the same.

"What do you want me to say?" Edmund counters. "You know what you saw, and unless you learn to knock you will see it again, because we have no time to worry about sneaking about and hiding!"

"What do you mean, you have no time?"

"Haven't you listened? Lucy has told the story of our past visits. We may be returned home as soon as tomorrow, with hardly any warning at all. Right now it's all we have."

"I don't understand," Eustace says and Edmund laughs bitterly. "No, why should that matter? So we go back home, good riddance! The sooner we get there, the sooner we can forget about this whole mess."

"I don't want to forget him," Edmund says, and Eustace finds himself speechless. "Even if I forget Narnia, I will never forget him."

"Why," he starts asking and rather foolishly remembers the silly stories that they were sometimes forced to read in school, of feuds and romance and fairies and there were duels, kings and deaths in one. Some inane story sticks out, of two idiots marrying in secret and then trying to wash out the spots? He tries to match the image to the one in his head, of Edmund stretched on the seat by the window with his head thrown back, and Caspian's dark head, haloed by the orange sunset, against his skin.

It still makes no sense.

"You mean the judicial system of Narnia allows for … that?"

"I have no idea, to tell you the truth. I recall there was nothing to forbid it in my time, but I had no means to study the current laws."

"But," Eustace says, and falls silent. Then, slowly, as though the thought is coming from far away, and when it finally arrives Eustace has to wonder how could it ever cross his mind, it is so far-fetched. "Can you marry here?"

"No. For many more reasons than the obvious."

"Such as?"

Edmund gives Eustace a searching look and smiles, a little shakily. "He is the king, and in a matter of years -- or even months -- he would need to wed a woman. He should be married now, if he wasn't crazy enough to chase after a fool's errand right now." He toys with the edge of the blanket. "I cannot stay here," he says at last. "Like before, we will return to England, the three of us. So no matter what, we will have to walk away."

"Then what's the point?" Eustace asks, a touch peeved, because he is seeing less and less sense in the affair. "Other than scaring decent people to death, I mean."

Edmund bites his lip and starts laughing then, to which Eustace cannot help but respond with a scowl. "I'm sorry. You are right, of course, there is no point."

Eustace almost opens his mouth to ask again, but really, what can Edmund tell him, that he doesn't already know? He is a fool, and a kid, and this sort of stuff is best left out of mind, Eustace feels.

"I'll make sure Caspian is reasonable," Edmund says and gets up. "But try not to mention it again. He's got a nasty temper, doubly so when he's reminded that I- that we will return to our world sooner rather than later."

"He's a savage," Eustace said without real fire. "They all are. Sailing. Who sails in this day and age? Haven't they heard of internal combustion?"

"No, they haven't."

"It's insane."

"A little bit."

Edmund leaves and Eustace burrows in his blanket again. He should be more shocked, he thinks, about his cousin being that way, but since his whole family is made of freaks, at least he has an excuse. He prefers not to dwell on what that says about him, given that they are kin.

He doesn't apologise to Caspian, of course not. He has nothing to be sorry for, if anything, he should be apologised to. He doesn't say a word, though, not when he sees (and he does) Edmund and Caspian sneaking out of the camp, when they are on an island, or manning a one-man job, whatever it is, on the pigeon's nest together.

It's none of his business, what his cousin is getting himself into, really.


	3. compact of fire

[chronicles of narnia -- compact of fire]

In Lucy's memory Edmund very rarely gave in to bursts of anger. His temper simmers, even when fuelled by the biggest fire; even when the rest of them are yelling, Edmund is calm enough to point out the obvious.

She suspects, or, more accurately, she has grown to suspect that this was only possible with another outlet for the emotion that Edmund undoubtedly feels, and this has proved accurate -- more than once she'd observed as he returned from a midnight hunting trip, when they were in Narnia, or a run, when in England. Mother was quite upset with his disappearances, but he would not take any scolding to heart.

So, Lucy is quite shocked to discover him screaming, around midday, in her cabin. She has returned to change her shirt, which was soaked after the man in charge of washing the deck accidentally spilled a bucket of water and she finds Edmund, stretched across her bed, with his head burrowed in the pillow, screaming.

"Edmund," she says, forgetting at once about the shirt, which was no hardship to begin with, as the day was lovely and warm, and the only trouble was that it seemed immodest to wander about in a wet, white shirt. "Edmund, are you all right?"

He is startled, she sees that in the way he freezes where he lies. She crosses the cabin to lay a hand on his shoulder and finds him flinching away from her touch. He is tense and upset and Lucy immediately feels tearful. "What happened, Ed?"

"Nothing," he says, in a hoarse, shaking voice.

"Edmund!"

"Leave me."

"I will do no such thing."

"I mean it. Go and comfort Caspian. He's bound to be mildly perturbed."

Lucy starts piecing together the details, from the shaking syllables that Edmund utterly fails to let out, but the fragments are not yet forming a clear picture. "Have you fought?" she asks, because that's what it seems like, but how can it be? They are so close, seemingly of one mind in most matters, certainly when it comes to sneaking out of people's sight.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"I don't! You are such good friends," she says and rolls her eyes when Edmund lets out a hollow laugh. "Oh, don't do that. I know what you've been up to when no one is around, I am not foolish."

Edmund snorts into the pillow.

"I would thank you not to drool on my pillow too much," Lucy says sternly. "I need it for sleeping."

"Too late."

"That's gross!"

"I've been fucking Caspian for most of the journey," Edmund says, and for the first time he turns to look at her. His eyes are red and she realises he's been crying.

"Not on my pillow I hope," she manages to say, even as she is overwhelmed by a rush of tender feelings and the need to comfort him. He looks so young, so broken, Lucy wishes she could hold him and take the world away.

"That didn't cross my mind until now."

"You are disgusting."

"If only that were so."

"Why did you fight?" Lucy asks, as Edmund slowly rolls to his back and stares at the ceiling. She curls next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I said it was over."

"Why?"

"Because we are going back and he will marry the star."

"Really? How can you tell? They barely spoke."

"He's a king, she is a guide from the heavens, this is a fairly tale land, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"Are you afraid he'll forget you?"

Edmund snorts. "This is not what Shakespeare would have you believe," he says and he tries to be flippant, but a hitch that is more of a sob betrays his distress.

"Are you jealous?" Lucy asks and this is a novelty to her, and possibly to him as well.

"No."

"Then, if you don't want him to marry the star, why don't you just ask?"

"Ask him what? Please Caspian, don't marry the woman who looks like the embodiment of all things good and beautiful, and who would be sure to bring hope and light to your subjects with her very presence?"

"Did you try ‘please, Caspian, I love you?'" Lucy says and Edmund shoves her off the bed and pulls the covers over his head. "Well, did you?"

"You are being ridiculous," he says, but his voice is shaking.

"I'm being ridiculous? I'm not the one who's locked up in a bedroom, crying over what, exactly?"

"You wouldn't understand!"

"Understand what?" Lucy crawls over the bed until he is sitting on the sad mound that is Edmund and glares, an effort thoroughly ruined by the fact he cannot see her. "I understand that you have broken your heart quite thoroughly, and that I have yet to hear of Caspian's involvement in the matter."

"He was involved enough."

"What did he say?"

"I'm not sure, I left after he resorted to vulgarities."

"Caspian swears?"

"Like a cockney bricklayer. Maybe better."

"Edmund…" Lucy says, leaning her full weight on Edmund. "Don't you love him?"

"Does it matter?"

"Rather, I would say."

"It's stupid."

"Clearly, you are crying your eyes out here. One too many romance novels, I fancy."

"Oh, bother you," Edmund says, twisting out of her hold and pulling the comforter off his face. He is pale and his face is puffy. "You're a monster and Caspian is an insufferable fiend. You can both go drown yourselves and stop bothering me!"

"Right," Lucy says, and gets off the bed. "I will go and speak to Caspian, and when you wish to stop channelling the spirit of Eustace, you will join us." She leaves Edmund to his sobbing.

*****

Caspian hides well, but the Dawn Treader is a small ship, and it is takes Lucy less than ten minutes to find him, high in the crow's nest. He's glaring at the sea as though it has committed some grave, personal offence against him, and his grip upon the rim of the basket looks like it hurts him.

"I suppose you are as unwilling to talk as Edmund," Lucy says.

"I wouldn't presume to refuse Your Majesty anything, least of all a conversation."

Lucy rolls her eyes. "Really? That's what you're going to do now?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean."

"Well then, let me refresh your memory. My brother and you seem to have started a courtship, let it flourish, consummated it summarily, and I am told it ended. I don't much care for the latter, as you may well imagine, partly because it was adorable to see you two sneaking about, and partly because Ed is now weeping about it."

Caspian looks scandalised, ashamed and a little bit terrified. Lucy fights a grin, because the proud king looks like a child caught with their hand in the jar of cookies.

"At least he's suffering," he says finally and Lucy smacks him, only partially in jest.

"That's my brother you're talking about."

"He brought it on himself."

"Again, my brother."

"That's not much of an argument."

"It's enough of an argument," Lucy says.

"Then, I am glad to have an ally." Caspian's face twists in anger. "If that's where you stand, you might as well leave me here."

"I don't like seeing you unhappy."

Caspian turns to her and smiles as the wind whips his hair about his face. Lucy is mesmerised for a moment, because he is stunningly handsome, really, but he belongs to Edmund, she can see that plain as day.

"Edmund would say that it is good that you are to depart soon," Caspian says. "Then you won't have to watch me be unhappy."

Lucy doesn't think much about what to do next. He steps forward and wraps her arms around Caspian's waist and just holds him. He stiffens at first, unsure of himself and the gesture -- he was an only child, an orphan at that, Lucy remembers, he would know little of the comfort between siblings -- but then he melts into her arms and his breath hitches. His arms envelop her and she feels him whispering.

"Please, Lucy," he is saying and the words come out a garbled mess, "Aslan listens to you the most, please, ask that he let him stay. I need him."

Lucy shakes her head and blinks away the tears. "You know it doesn't work like that," she says. "It cannot."

"It's not fair," Caspian says into her shirt.

"It never is." Lucy hesitates. "Won't you come speak to Ed? At least you should say goodbye." The goodbye is coming, she knows it. She can feel it in her bones, in the smells of the air, in the blinding whiteness in the far horizon.

"Why doesn't he come to talk to me," Caspian is petulant and Lucy very nearly laughs. Boys, honestly.

"He won't," she just says and digs her knuckles into Caspian's back. "He's Edmund."

The king sighs and, though he is still for a few more minutes, Lucy senses the resolve. Soon they are both climbing down the mast and sneaking (mostly to avoid company) into Lucy's cabin, where Edmund is busy counting the dust motes in the golden beam of light above his head. The forlorn look on his face breaks Lucy's heart all over-again.

He looks at them and then away, even as Caspian pushes past Lucy to sit by him on the bed. "I still think you are an egotistical idiot," Edmund tells the ceiling.

"I still think you are a lying bastard," Caspian says.

"I don't lie."

"No? Then what was it you said about being glad we have no hope together?"

Edmund sits up, throwing the covers aside. "Then what would you have me say?" he says. There is fire in his eyes such as Lucy has only seen on the fields of battle, and all of it is directed at Caspian, who miraculously stands it without so much as a flicker of unease. "That I am an utter cretin and I love you so much that it is going to kill me to leave you here alone? That I will be an absolute ass to everyone else from now on, because no one else will ever be you?"

Caspian manages the thinnest smile and kneels on the bed. He takes Edmund's head in his hands and kisses his mouth, staunching the flow of words. "Yes," he says. "I would have you say that. It would have been honest."

"Go fuck yourself," Edmund says with feeling. "I don't want this. I never wanted this."

"And you were doing so well," Caspian laughs and kisses him again, even as Lucy rolls her eyes. Edmund can be so stubborn, it's uncanny.

He sounds a little better now. Still sad, but at least he will have some comfort, she hopes.

She is closing the door behind her when she remembers the pillow and so she rushes back and yanks it from underneath Edmund's shoulder. The movement disrupts their balance and they both look at her, in amusement and surprise. She shoves the pillow into a cupboard and closes its door with a click.

"Try not to make too much of a mess, alright?" she says and leaves.

She doesn't think they notice.


End file.
